Pharmercy Weekly Prompts Submission
by support velkoz
Summary: A series of works that I will post as I follow the Pharmercy Weekly Prompts. Hope you enjoy!
1. Hospital Encounter

**Hospital Encounter, or; Why do I always feel like I'm being left** **behind.**

 _1.39 a.m._ _Drunk. Smoking._

I am tired. It has been three hours since the open-heart but my scrubs are still on. I want to remove them, and yet- I am too exhausted; or lazy, I don't know- the only thing I've done the last hour has been to systematically kill my lungs through my third pack of the week. And it's only a Tuesday.

There is a bus running down the highway so I track it with my eyes. When it passed out of sight I track another. My throat burns and feel good at the same time and I toss the half-finished stick- the fourth- over the railings and rub my bloodshot eyes with sticky-feeling palms and try not to breathe in the depressing smell as I stride warily through C ward.

I despise myself, but I still turn it on. My newsfeed is flooded. Literally hundreds of notifications. Seven different conversations going on simultaneously. Three new headlines since seven o'clock. _ScheiBe._ Why do I give a fuck. My stupid fingers grope for the pack and I catch them before they are successful. I pull at my hair and seven strands come loose in my palm.

'Gaghh!'

Smash. Lovely smiling bee-head pen holder stare at me with a crack down its mutilated face from the floor. Claudette would be sad I did this to her Christmas gift. But Claudette is in Cologne, so it's alright. I punch the pad and the holo-projector dies instantly. The button is stiff and won't reset to its raised position. I... I might have broken it. The underside of my palm hurts. I am stupid. I do not know how to punch things. Fuck.

I breathe in.

Then I breathe out.

The exhale is shaky and disinfectant is too strong for my nose right now, really, they should do something about the smell of this place. As head physician I have a lot of weight I could throw around if I wanted. But I am tired. It gets harder to give fucks. Haven't sat down to rest since nine a.m. How I wish she was here...

I close my eyes and the silence of the hospital crashes down on my ears with deafening force. They are wide open before I am crushed by the black nothingness overwhelming my every sense. I hate this. I hate my life. _Mein gott..._

Two knocks.

The words 'Come In' die in my throat as I see the shadow through the opaque glass.

I pick myself up and shake my head to wake up as I seize the handle and swings it open.

'Mein schatz..?'

'It is late. You did not say you would be home late', she says matter-of-factly.

'I-'

'-seven missed calls.'

'-Fareeha I-'

'-what is this.' She stick a hand into the left side pocket and take my pack from me. '... S0000987?'

Finality in her voice. Not a question. She has a duffel slung over her. I remember she ends work at one. Helix to Baden-Baden is a half hour race at top speed, discounting traffic. Did she fly a jet here? Maybe she attached wings to the Harley? I half expected Verkehrspolizei to burst through the glass doors to a shocked Karl any moment. _'Miss. Please come with us. Do not resist. Danke.'_

But no.

'Third pack of the week, Ang. It's Tuesday.'

'You memorize my cigarette pack serial numbers?', I am not good at disguising ridicule, so I don't. My pent-up annoyance roll off me in waves. I lack the ability to direct anger at people and it leaves me frustrated. I feel bitter. Angry. But why? I don't know. Stress.

Fareeha makes it matter nothing.

She hug- pull, actually- me and crushes me against her. Our bosoms press against each other and I feel her throat vibrate against my forehead as she speaks again.

'Stop this.'

I must smell disgusting. My hair is so frazzled. I can _feel_ the split ends. She is freshly washed and smells sharp; clean. Like aftershave. Thick, calloused palms grab my waists and do not let go. Her touch is firm. Warm. Hard. And yet... gentle. My exhaustion announces itself. I caught myself collapsing against her.

'It's late. Let's go home.'

'-but-',

'Home.' She kiss me on the forehead and I don't argue anymore. I flick off the lights to my office.

She guide me down the hallway.

I wave to Karl the receptionist. He smile awkwardly at my Egyptian.

We leave through the backdoor.

...

I hold her.

Fareeha zips down the Autobahn at two miles below the speed limit. Wind finds a way into the helmet and I fall asleep as we pass friendly Polizei having coffee at the side of the road. Good men.

Fareeha unlocks the door. Drags me in. I'm too far gone to care.

She undress me and tucks me into bed. I am naked. Chilly. I grumble. Soon she joins me. Now I'm warm. It's... really nice, I suppose.

I forget the news and the keeping-ups with every online posts ever. The surgery. The hospital. Headlines. Whatnot.

I am very tired.

'Goodnight.'

She stare, propped up on an elbow. I am a sucker for her biceps. But I am tired. My eyes droop on me. I would love to stay awake and speak; say something. I would love to express all these emotions that suddenly well up in me. I want to tell her that I love her, to thank her. For being there for me. But I am tired. So very, very tired.

'Gute Nacht', I mutter, instead.

And darkness claims me.

Sometimes it's good to just let yourself forget everything, and drift away.

(break)

 **A/N: Thanks to bliss and Stephanie.**


	2. A Bouquet of Flowers

**My submission for Week Two of the Pharmercy weekly prompts. This week, the prompt is 'Meeting Place', also; my personal interpretation of it- A Bouquet of Flowers. I came up with this while skinning potatoes to make curry soup for my family as Daler Mehdi's Tunak Tunak Tun blasted in my cozy little kitchen and my mother was flipping eggs- I kid you not- two at a time. I hope you enjoy!**

 _7 a.m_

I rise with the sun because I am excited. To see you, of course! I take care of my hygiene swiftly; methodically, later I flip flakes around in my bowl of cereal while I twirl a single greying strand of my hair between my idle fingers as I wonder what to wear to go and see you.

By the time I had finished my meal and tossed everything in the sink, I had decided to wear... hmm... a simple white skirt. Yes, I nod to my reflection as the bra strap fall down my slender right shoulder. White. You had always liked me in white. Your eyes would light up like a kid on Christmas morning whenever I strutted into our bedroom in my virgin-white camisole. Mornings, you swooned at me even as I make breakfast for us in my impractical lab coat of a bathrobe. White. Always white. You loved it then. And I trust that, till now, you still do...

There is a carefree smile on my face and a spring in my step as I grab my handbag and bolts out the door, my hair flowing loose down my shoulders, the wind fluffing my skirt, I. Me. The happiest woman alive.

And it was no exaggeration, mein liebling. Far from it. O my sweet, lovely Fareeha...you have no idea how much I love it when I get to see you.

They meant a lot to me; these weekly meetings, now that I spend so much time at the hospital. Now, I am going there three times a week, three! and, and, I barely spend any time at home anymore!! We do so many checkups it dizzy me, and sometimes the Doktor in me question why we run so many tests when there was clearly nothing wrong and, and... I try not to dwell on it, though.That's not something you would want for me to go on and on about... right? But luckily for me, I had no appointments this Saturday, so I had circled the date on my wall-hung calendar and looked forward to it! I was going to see you! My heart melts.

I see you leaning by our spot in the distance.

There are children running between the trees over there, and on the left side of the path one old couple are standing together, holding hands as they stare at something before them. The lady does not look very happy. I wish she's gonna be okay. After all, the sun is out and beaming down at us from the high heavens, and it would be a shame not to smile on such a lovely day!

But I forget them quickly, though, as I approach our spot. The sun is shining, like I said, the birds are singing. There are swans flopping about- was that the word? Do swans flop?- in the nearby lake. Even the congregation of black-clad folks on the far side of the compound were singing joyously, a rare sight! It's perfect, Fareeha. It's amazing. It's beautiful... for me, and for you. I smile and pat the stone below me as I lean back and take out a book from my handbag. I set it down, on the grass, and it's not going to get dirty, don't worry mein liebling; I always keep our place clean.

I wait for a moment, just to feel that you are really here with me. And my heart is beginning to flutter, because you are. Even with my eyes closed; not looking, I can _feel_ it, I can _see_ you smiling at me. And I'm smiling, too, as my eyelids flutter open, and I think of you; only of you, as I train my gaze on the tattered paperback I've kept for so, so long, and began reading.

I lose myself in the story I narrate. I feel your warm gaze on me and I blush like a teenager. I could have sworn I felt your hand reaching for mine as we approached the part where the Princess elopes with her female bodyguard...

I hear you sigh happily.

Clouds fly merrily past.

The day passes fast when I am with you, Fareeha.

I loved, no. Love. Yes. I love it.

But all too soon, our day comes to an end, and I sit besides you watching dusk falls and the swans fly off together in pairs to nest somewhere warm for the night and everyone leaves and soon I am the only one left in this forest of sparse trees.

It gets cold, fast.

I feel cold, somehow, even with you holding me.

At eight p.m I finally get up to leave, now that all the cute little animals had slept and silence and the cold once more swept the dark, dark cemetery.

I have tomorrow off as well, Fareeha. My next psychological evaluation isn't until Monday. I promise to bring flowers!

What shall I buy you... hmm. Roses. White roses? White? I remember you always liked white. Ja? I'll get you that then. I remember how much you loved white. You always liked me in white. Your eyes would light up like a kid's on Christmas morning whenever I strutted into our bedroom in my virgin-white camisole. Mornings, you swooned at me even as I make breakfast for us in my impractical lab coat of a bathrobe.

But back to important things!! Tomorrow's our next date, Fareeha! I'll bring flowers. Will you be there?

Will you? Mein liebling? Mein schatz? _My love. My life?_

I know you'll be there.

You'll always be there.

Always.


	3. Daily Ritual

**3\. Daily Ritual.**

 **Yours truly's submission for the third Pharmercy weekly prompt; Daily Ritual. My interpretation of it; Each Sunrise. Fluffy cinnamon rolls in sugar this time. Nothing dark this chapter. Promise. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Ciao~**

There is value in routine. There is comfort to be found in having a fixed day to day schedule; and it doesn't get repetitive, no. I just enjoy knowing what exactly is going to happen the moment I open my eyes.

I wake at around six thirty in the morning; because today is a Saturday, and because I was rather tired-but in a good way!- from all the... uhm... bedroom gymnastics we had gotten up to the night before. Out of sheer habit, I pat the space besides me. Of course, Fareeha is not there; she always woke up before me, regardless of whether it was a workday or no, _and whether we had been going at it hammers and tongs the night before or not_ , I grinned as I clambered drunkenly out of bed and made for the shower, mind secure with the knowledge that fifteen minutes in the steam would not only clear my mind, but also wake me up proper and good.

I'm drumming my dainty fingers on the polished countertop waiting for the city roast to dispense itself into my kitty-embossed cuppa when my wife raps twice on the front door and then pushes her way in, slightly panting for breath.

In her sports bra and boyshorts, she wouldn't be out of place on the front page of a men's sports magazine. That she was all _mine_ brought a funny little stirring to my heart.

'Hi.'

I wave.

'Good morning', Fareeha advances on me with long, purposeful strides and I'm backed up against the cold marble as she is suddenly right in front of me in two blinks and there are now two strong arms on either side of me, aggressively positioned near my waist.

'Did you sleep well?', a fine sheen of perspiration and stray drops of sweat dot her visage, and my nose is overwhelmed with her succint, uniquely _Fareeha_ scent as she leans in close enough that our noses are touching, and I was going to say that, well, yes I did sleep rather wel-

-and she claimed my lips with her own eager ones and suddenly there is a kiss and I'm pushed back against the counter top and she presses herself to me. Her hot, sweaty, hard-bodied self. Heat flushes my loins and the part of me that hadn't already lost itself to lust mumbled that I was in big trouble. _Oh boys_.

But I'm no mere woman! I'm _the_ Angela Ziegler, and I was never one to go down without a fight, even if she wasn't playing fair and was groping her hands up my torso, a trail of fire in her touch's wake. But I was no pushover. I fight back. The kiss turns into a duel of tongues as an inferno blazes alive in my chest and she nip at my lips, but softly, and my eyes -which even I had never realized had _closed-_ flew open.

And I was lost.

Deep brown orbs blazing with unfiltered passion stared right into my own deer-in-the-headlights cerulean ones as she pressed the attack, probing further into me with her tongue, our mouths now sealed to each other in a sloppy kissy way that had a little drool coming out the side. She was so flustered, the cute pinkish hue all the more visible on her tanned skin, and I was a fighter no more, suddenly, as I melted like putty in her arms, which had now come into a secure embrace round my back.

She kissed me like I was a five course meal and she had neither seen nor touched food in seventeen days. She hefted me fully onto the counter like I weighed nothing- and I didn't, not really- and my legs gripped round her waist; probably an automatic reaction by this point. It wouldn't be the first time she'd come back from her morning run to work out _again_ by treating dopey-smiley me to a succulent meal of breakfast sex.

Fareeha retreated, forehead against mine, panting heavily. My nails dig lines into her back and my eyes are glazed over as I pant with her and she nuzzles her cheek against mine experimentally as she was preparing for what was most likely an attempt in laying me down on this very counter and... uhm... fucking my brains out. The smell of city roast waft over. Lovely.

Just lovely.

'I'll be right back baby', she dashes in the direction of the shower and you would not be able to imagine the look on my face right then as I slipped my underwear- hi-cut plain white cotton, no lace; lace chafes- back on. _How did it even come off!?_ Fareeha had magic fingers.

I was a ball of sexual frustration as I slurped my coffee aggressively, _very_ aggressively, and made waffles as the shower ran.

I was sooo going to fuck her brains out after this.


	4. Pet Name

**Week 4: Pet Name.**

An-ge-la. In the morning, standing there cursing your coffee for not being bitter enough in your- well, _my_ , since you took it from my side of our wardrobe- large, artic warfare camo print cotton shirt; you are Angela. At work, whether in your labcoat and turtleneck-pencil skirt combo or... well... actually just that, since I can't recall you wearing anything else, you are Dr. Ziegler. Outstanding surgeon, brilliant nanoscientist, a shining light and cornerstone of twenty-first century modern medicine; you.

On the battlefields, you are Mercy. You; an angel from the high heavens sent forth by Lady Justice herself to rain destruction upon our enemies, and raise our allies from beyond death, to carry arms once more in the name of what is _right_. 'Helden sterben Nicht!' Heroes _never_ die. I see the hole in my armor disappear and I take flight once more, rocket thrusters roaring with unchecked joy, systems ready; maxed out. I reach the epitome- the peak, of my flight path and turn a single glare upon the enemy, with the sun behind me, blinding them. With you, supporting me, boosting my back. I roar and unleash vengeance upon the hordes below, and they crumble before us. And victory! I fly unnecessary laps around before landing to impress you because I'm vain. I don't know if you see it, but I go beet-red when you catch my eye and wink.

Ahhh... I almost fell out of the sky.

Good times.

Before my... um... mother, you are 'young lady'. She is curious, to me. Puzzling; that's the better word. I _know_ that secretly, and deep, deep down, she approves. While our relationship isn't the most _traditional_ in that sense of the word it is still okay, since after all global gay marriages had been legalized for longer than I've been alive; hence she does not actually mind it, and _yet_ she does this act over and over. Each time she meets you she puts up more hoops for you to jump through, and polite, civil you; understanding, respectful you gets worn thin by the onslaught of we're still together. And that's... that's great!

Angela. . Mercy. Young lady. So many nicknames. To me, they are just labels, really. People call you all sorts of things, and I guess you are all sorts of things to other people, depending on who you meet.

But in my arms, you will always be my cinnamon roll.

'Wot?', you giggle cutely. Look! Is that heat flushing your cheeks? A-hah! I jab you playfully in the side. 'C-cinnamon roll?', you bit your lip as you go full-flustered on me.

'You don't like it?', I ask, scrunching up my nose, and you wiggle your head into the crook of my neck as you pull my arm that's already around you _further_ around you. 'Nughooooo..'

'Hmm?', I play the hunter game; my middle and index fingers are the legs of a hunter, and they are walking up your body, kiaa! 'The hunter goes up the trail...', I trace my way up your exposed arm and you shudder as you _smoosh_ so hard in my hold, '... he goes up the hill...', I hop daringly onto your breast, and your breathing picks up.

'Knock knock! Are you okay in there? Halooooooo~!', you are shaking so hard I stop and my 'hunter' 's 'legs' go up to gently grip your chin. I raise you from your little hidey hole and make you look at me. 'Angela?'

'Imayucinamorol', you mutter _so_ adorably as your head tries to look away again. I didn't catch your mumbling.

'W-what?'

'I am your cinnamon roll...', you whisper into my ear as you lean in close, and then you snuggle into me again to hide from my gaze.

Aughh... My heart! My heart it... i-it melts. It really did. I melted.

'Ang...', I drawl as I hug you closer. Even closer. I was smooshing you against me and _I_ loved it and _you_ loved it.

'My. Cinnamon. Roll', I enunciate each word clearly. 'Muahhh~!', and I kiss my cinnamon roll fully on the lips, giggling like a little girl.

Ang kisses me back.

'And you... you are my Lady Justice.'

'Oh?', I smile at her, our foreheads touching, 'now am I?'

'Yes you are', she rolls onto her back and pulls me on top of her, 'now rain your Justice upon me.'

I blink. Once. Twice. Three times. And then...

And then we fucked.

 **My submission for this week's prompt: Pet name. My personal interpretation of it (and coincidentally, my favorite topic): Cookies! I'm sadly one of those people whose quality of writing hinges singly upon their mood, and in my writings are always personal works, so I don't plan or plot before i write, so to those of you who also read Warm in the Cold, I apologize for the last two chapters being so drab; I've been relatively contented recently, and my writing became boring when I am not sad. But that's all about to change,~! Enjoy, peoples o/** **Listen to Undertale Remixed- Bonetrousle (Holder Remix) Papyrus Theme guys, it will rattle your wigglies. Good stuff, I promise.**


	5. Tattoo

**Hi! Welcome back to JellySquid land, and I'm glad to have you here once again for this week's Pharmercy weekly prompt titled: Tattoo. I hope you enjoy! o/**

(break)

'Why do you have so many tattoos, Faree?', Angela asked as she flipped a page, the reading glasses perched on her nose tip framing the cerulean blues now curiously peeking at her olive-skinned companion.

'Hm?', the former Captain blinked blearily as she was awoken from her little afternoon nap, the mess of blond hair in her lap a welcoming sight as she took stock of her senses and half-stifled a sleepy yawn. 'What did you say Ang?'

'Why do you have so many tattoos?', the Swiss Doktor smooshed against her partner's leg, her book closed and temporarily forgotten. Sunbeams of the late afternoon filtered in past half-drawn creme-colored lacy curtains, softly illuminating the two love birds.

'T-that's...', Fareeha hesitated. '...that's a long story, Ang.'

'I'm listening', Angela muttered as she curled up further in her companion's lap.

Silence, for a long moment, before anyone spoke again.

'Remember Cairo?'

'Ja.'

Pharah absentmindedly ran her hand along the scar-crisscrossed skin of her left upper arm. Mercy's gaze followed. On it; a small serial code- probably dog tag battletag- and a name; Jacqueline.

'April, twenty second. Fourteen hundred hours', Fareeha muttered, eyes glazing off. 'Central Egypt.'

 _They ducked and gritted their teeth as the shrapnels flew past overhead._

 _The concussion made their ears hurt, and the sandbags nearest to the top simply ruptured from the shockwave._

 _'Holy', the young British Lieutenant gasped, then began raising her head up slowly to peek._

 _Smack! Pharah grabbed her head by the hair and pulled her down, back into relative cover._

 _'Are you crazy? Keep your head down!'_

 _'Ouch! Okay, okay', Jacqueline yelped as she watched, wide-eyed, while Pharah reloaded her HK-36 and used her thumb to flick the pin off what looked like a smoke grenade_

 _._ _'L-listen.' Pharah seized her young superior by the collar and pulled her close. Close enough for their noses to touch. 'I'm going to lay down smoke. We'll try to run through it back to Zalafar and company.'_

 _'Here,' Pharah unwound her long scarf from around her neck, tied one end on the lower straps of her combat pack, and gave the other end, roughly spanning a metre, to the British woman. 'I know it won't be possible for you to keep your hand on my bag, and I can't hold your hand; I'll need both hands for the gun. So hold on to the scarf. And do not let go.'_

 _'Okay', Jacqueline whimpered, the realities finally kicking in. Behind her, southern forward Command burnt. Omnic lasers still sweeped the crumbling ruins through the thick, ever-present kicked up dust of these Egyptian lands, constantly searching for targets._

 _'Go go go!', Pharah gestured urgently, and they both got up and dashed forward, through the billowing gray smoke._

 _'Bewp. Boop. Boop. Wh- ACK ACK ACK ACK ACK!'_ _The sentry fell to the ground in a smoking heap, its motion tracking sensor shot out, its hips twisted and gun-mounted arm blasted into smithereens._

 _'Shit. Fuck fuck fuck', Pharah muttered under her breath as she checked her ammo counter and watched the lasers in the area behind them all pause for just a split sec._ _'Beep boop beep.'_ _The heads of the ground assault units all whirred, and turned in their direction_

 _._ _'Do these models have X-ray? Infrared?', she cursed to herself as she continued sprinting forward, ever aware that any moment now a bullet could land in her back. The shooting picked up again and Pharah just wished they were firing wildly into the air, and not particularly at any targets._

 _'Double time, Lieutenant! Quick, quick!'_ _It was the longest minute as they made their way back to friendly lines, Pharah heaving a huge sigh of relief as she panted from lack of breath and turned to survey the enemy._

 _'That was pretty good, Jacqueline, I didn't think you could run that f-'_

 _'Lieutenant?' the scarf hung empty from her back._

 _In the desert sands around Command, firing erupted._

 _'No.'_

 _'No no no no no!'_

'S-stop', Angela choked, her fingers digging into her partner's hand.

'I'm... sorry', Fareeha said, haltingly. She patted Angela's head. 'It just brings back memories.'

'That's alright', Angela whispered. 'It's good that you let it out.'

'There's more.'

 _Artillery thundered down in the landscape around, Private Adriana De Rosa cringed as the ground shook from the shockwaves, and turned to her commander as she shielded her eyes with a hand._

 _'Captain? When d-'_

 _She never had the chance to finish. A resounding crack; like a little bolt of thunder, resonated through the air and Pharah stared on, uncomprehending, as red began to blossom from her soldier's heart._

 _She fell._

 _'W-', Pharah was speechless. 'What...'_

 _'Sniper!', the squad jumped into action, all hunkering down immediately, fully alert as they tried to scan for the source of the sniper fire._

 _'What...', she fell to her knees besides her fallen, the girl leaning against her thigh as her head rolled off to one side and blood began pooling into a literal puddle around where she now rested._

 _'Rosa. Rosa?', Pharah was panicking. Tears were threatening to stream down her cheeks. But yet; she managed to keep her voice steady. Somehow. 'Rosa you gotta stay with us alright. MEDIC!', she turned and screamed at a Corporal, by the looks of their epaulets. She didn't bother to see their name; there just wasn't enough time! 'Rosa you gotta stay with us, okay? You'll be fine.'_

 _She rocked the girl as her eyelids began to droop slowly. Then closed.  
_

 _But not for long though, for Pharah shook her madly and her eyes fluttered open again; weakly._

 _'You will be fine, Rosa.'_

 _'Stay with us', she begged, as the girl's lids began to droop again. She was losing too much blood. She was already dead before she hit the ground. There was no telling if the only reason her eyes were still open were because she didn't shut them before her death._

 _'You'll be fine...'_

'P-please', Angela sobbed. 'No more.'

'I-i understand now', she shook her head as she stared up at her wife. Fareeha was silent, brooding, her eyes staring off into the distance. A light tap on the shoulder brought her back.

'So... that's this?'

'Yes.' A nod.

There, on her left bicep. A code.

And... a name.

Adriana De Rosa.


	6. No Plot BDF Insert

**1\. The Witch**

It is that time of the year again. The full moon lurks behind pompous midnight clouds and the people across the lands shut their doors and secure their hatches as the final night of the Harrowing draws to a close.

Across the forts, keeps and villages and all along the borders of the Kingdom legions of LightBringers and Huntresses rest their bows and lower their swords as the throngs of the Undying crumble to dust and become one with the land.

You take a deep breath in as you wave your friend Wilhelm goodbye, then turned your gaze towards the long, dark path ahead. The gates shut with a resounding crash, then all was silent again save for the soft crackling of the flickering bonfires across the upturned, corpse-ridden ground.

As envoy from the Kings of the Northern Forges, it had been your mission to travel- by horse or foot, whichever was available- towards the Capital to deliver scrolls, the contents of which was also, to you, mysterious. The Rising had delayed your progress significantly, and for most of the month you had been stuck at Eichenwalde Castle, doing little to aid the defenders outside of cowering in your room whimpering as, nightly, the Witch raised her own legions and waged eternal war against the forces of the the Light.

Now, as you trudged on this lonely dirt path surrounded on all sides by marshlands, you let out a deep sigh and imagined how nice it would be to have a - preferably female - companion on this trip. Your thoughts drift back to Symmeja, the Imperial Lightbringer Commander- as well as, admittedly, her fine ass- and how nice it would be just to have her riding her massive steed next to you as you walked. Then at least there would be someone to talk to, to pass the time.

You could be her porter, you didn't mind. After all, not only was she hot as the fires of Citadel, but equally charming. Seeing her for the first time, with decidedly indecent thoughts of gratuitious femdom shooting around in your head, you had been speechless.

Your ruminations distracting, you didn't see where you walked, and with a yelp you- stupidly- threw your arms up as you fell rolling down the steep side of the trail... right into the marshes. Panic set in before you had even settled and miserably you wailed to the night as you started to sink. But it was not your body that was the only thing that was sinking. For so was your heart.

Maniacal- very unladylike!- laughter rang clear in the night air and your eyes widened considerably as a very distinctive female form on her magical broomstick zipped across the sky overhead, twin burning orbs of gold orbiting her like tiny planets round a brilliant star. With a strangled yelp you clawed at the mud- only hastening your descent- and tried to move away from the Dark Witch herself. Sinking, sinking low, overcome by terror but more so by your instinct to survive, you shut your eyes and stretched out your arms to the sky, wincing as you faced in her direction and shouted.

'Help me!!'

The flying figure stopped and looked down.

(break)

You awaken to a warm and moist feeling around your cock. Through your lifting daze all you could make out was the quiet, wet slurping sounds of a pair of lips that seemed very intent on bringing your girth to its full erection, and in that regard alone it was doing a fantastic job.

Wiggling in your position you found that your hands were unbound, and as a dexterous tongue snaked under your throbbing member and teased your laden ballsacks, instinct made you bring your hands to your crotch, running it through a head of thick, silky smooth hair as you arched your head back and breathed heavily. A hand braced itself on one of your thighs for support as the slurping sounds heightened in pitch and your mind finally went blank as you felt lust completely take over.

The heavenly heat of those slick lips sealed tightly around your cock again, bobbing up and down to the rhythm of your quickening thrusts, and it was all you could do not to let out a strangled, happy moan. Your mission was a thousand miles away, all ideas of Symmeja was also moot. There was only your hardened manhood here, and this wonderful facefuck. You didn't think it could get any better.

Then a small, delicate hand gently cradled your filled-out balls in its touch and slowly began milking it for your seed at the same time that afore-mentioned lips sucked hard on the swelling head of your throbbing member, and you held back no more.

You screamed into the night.

Lost in the grip and velvety smoothness of the molten passion that was your cocksucker's talented mouth, your hands balled into fists grabbing a handful of hair in them as your primeval lust compelled your hips to viciously thrust upwards into that tight, wet cavern. Your balls slapped repeatedly against her chin with a pleasant sound for all to hear, and you panted lewdly with your tongue out as your entire lower body began coming off the surface to stuff that mouth with cock.

With an almighty groan you slammed the your hands down, forcing her head against your pubes as several jets of boiling semen pulsed up your member, right down her throat. Your essence sloshed around behind her lips as your hips kept pumping on in desperate, jerky little motions and for a second you feared that she would not be able to take it all. But then she swallowed, and all of your essence was taken in as she pressed back against you and aggressively devoured your cum.

Too overwhelmed by the pleasure, with a final, broken groan...

You fainted.

(break)

Heat.

Molten ecstasy, passion-soaring heat.

With a gasp your hips buck as what could only be the feeling of tight, slick vaginal walls gripped your pulsing cock, and you swam out of your sleep in record time as your not so little man realized it was being primed for what it had always wanted to do; breed females. You heard a long, drawn out sigh as two dainty little hands placed themselves onto your bare chest and a significant- but not uncomfortable- weight slowly pressed down on your nethers until the entire length of your fully hardened member had been sheathed into her vice-like snatch.

She wiggled her soft, pliable bum against your (incredily) full-again balls and you whimpered at the exquisiteness of the feeling. So deep in her, every movement either of you made sent electric tingles all up and down along your spines, top to toe to your finger tips, and especially focused down... there, as all the blood and passion raced south to fill your throbbing cock with power, and in a display of strength you did not know you had you physically lifted her up by the waists until her sopping wet cunt was joined to your own member by only a clear string of your combined juices...

...then slammed back down, eliciting a yelp as your meat thrust up in her, her vagina claiming you in boiling, wet heat as she assisted you this time. Weakly, mewling like a little excited kitten, lifted herself up to the top and then ground her hips back down on you so your pubes were moulded to hers and all seven inches of your girth was swallowed up in her wonderful heat.

You felt your seed start to rise.

Lost.

Lost in desire, you forgot all else- and that was completely fine. Soon the only sounds in the room was the wet slapping sounds of cock and balls plunging repeatedly into your woman's snatch. Your fucking rose to a pitched climax as your entire back arched and lifted _her_ off the surface and her arms went around your torso as her naked breasts pressed against yours and all parts of your slick bodies touched- save your hips, which engaged and disengaged in a rhythm to breed as old as time itself.

As the mating went on, you had one, _one_ singular moment of clear thought as your brain tried to link the events of you being stuck to a marsh to you being here, copulating with this... literal Goddess of a being. And then she wailed into the night as her orgasm hit and she collapsed onto you, her walls rapidly pulsing as she strove to milk you of your essence and whatever thought processes you had was thrown out the window as your cock plunged up one last time...

... and came inside.


	7. Medical Attention (1)

The clinking together of those very sharp looking blades and surgical thingies had you sweating a little as you squirmed, trying to make yourself at ease on the stiff leather of 's examination table. You are not a fidgeting kind of person, but now you found your legs crossing and uncrossing with a nervous tempo as latex gloves were seen and picked up.

Bitten back was, a quiet swallow.

Under the bright, clinical light you felt totally naked despite having a thin hospital robe on. With her back turned to you, slightly bent over at her desk as she reached for her holopad across the table, you had a great view of her well-endowed, womanly curves. The very uncultured part of your brain wished that her pencil skirt would be ever shorter; that way the definition of her sweet peachy bums would be more pronounced through her clothes. Before your lecherous thoughts could go any further in mentally undressing the good Doktor, you found your... thing twitch.

You made a show- that no one could see- of placing your hands over your stiffening cock even as your eyes riveted more on her butt, then coughed awkwardly as she spun on the spot with her mouth half open as if about to speak... right in time to catch your staring. An eyebrow was cocked.

'Mister~?'

You find your cheeks heating up as she strutted towards you and pushed you back onto the examination table and for the briefest of seconds your mind went into full lust overdrive as your typical imagination took the story from this one action to having her spread out before you, your girth plunging her womanly depths repeatedly before depositing a thick, potent load of your semen against her sopping womb.

From this, to her jubilous cries of ecstasy before you two would settle into the hearth-like warmth of a post-coital glow, you still thrusting your cock inside of her lovingly slow as you come down from what could surely be no doubt a very vigorous fuck.

Alas, reality and fiction are two very, very different things indeed as you sensibly recalled that, yes indeed as well, this was just a physical examination. As attractive as was to maybe warrant these thoughts of less than friendly thoughts from you- and no doubt any man with a functioning dick on the base-, you were also by no means a 'stud'. You were attractive, you guessed, but in the way all fit people are. You had a nice haircut too, and the gold braids as well as the tattoo on your face gave you a distinct look from the rest, but save that you were rather ordinary.

Oh and your cock was as thick as any average girl's forearm and of equally impressive in length, but so could the other soldiers' own dongs. It's not like you would know, no one ever pulled out all their dicks and compared lengths in the common showers... right?

Your ruminations distracting, you barely caught her words before she was kneeling down before you and your eyes were drawn like by an invisible magnet towards her vertical, plunging neckline. Unable to control yourself, you licked your lips as you devoured the view of the swell of the top of her breasts and cleavage, coming in and out of sight ever so alluringly as her movements made the cloth of her attire obscure that delicious little slice of luscious womanhood.


	8. Medical Attention (2)

The clinking sounds of the surgical thingies (again) atop their trays on the cartwheels-attached tables coupled with the bead of sweat rolling down the side of your forehead was all the distraction that was necessary for your eyes to flicker from her for a second.

A second happened to- by some unfathomable luck of the cosmic dice's roll- be all that she needed, as the top-naked Combat Medic giggled tauntingly at you and darted surprisingly quickly- in her heels, no less- to the other side of the small room. You stood staring, mesmerized at the swells of her nice ample tits as well as the shapely waists that supported those defining feminine features. Again, she had eluded your grasps!

The standoff was on.

This thus put the distance between the two of you at maximum again, and in frustration you reached down and gave your throbbing cock a few forceful jerks as you eyeballed her breasts lustfully, your lecherous intents as apparent as the robust expansion of your filled-out nuts.

'Come and get me, soldier~', her invitation, as your hand seized with an iron grip around your hardened shaft and pistoned even more quickly, your footsteps taking you forward at a slow, deliberate pace as it occurred to the both of you at the same time that, darting between the examination table on the left hand and the medicine cabinet on the right as she had, the lust-raising Medic had just essentially backed herself into a corner.

Gosh. She was irisistable.

Your breathing picked up to a running peak as you grunted and dove forward, arms outstretched in full intent as your sex-adled brain took itself through the sequence of events from you first pinning her dainty little wrists against the wall to hefting a single smooth, maiden-fair thigh up, imagining the softness of her untainted flesh as your hot digits groped past her legs to ghost little motions over her perfect waists...

...and come to brace on her hips as you run your fingers back down the length of her thigh, spreading her wide open for you to step in between with your aching staff at the ready to sheath and plunder the viscous wet heaven that was her sex.

Silence.

Your groan of frustration is a deep, drawn out one as she eluded your grasps yet again and dove giggling wickedly between your outstretched arms, diving past you as if to flee. Instead she dropped to her knees in front of you as you stared down, her dexterous fingers immediately cradled your not unsubstantial penis. She took it in her hand straight away and began to milk you, forcing your eyes to roll towards the back of your head as the pleasure of her touch on your cock made your knees weak and shivers run up and down your spine.

The organ in her hand already at its full hardness, the shiny, slick wet coat of pre-ejaculation on your cock head wafted with a strong, distinctly aroused smell towards her and you took in a sharp breath as she brushed the few stray strands of hair out of her eyes... and descended on your hardness. The Combat Medic shifted on her knees a little as she felt her own excitement trickle down her thighs, her overflowing juices surely making a mess of both her undergarments and the floor beneath; it occurred to her just how lubricated she was now and how good it would feel to envelop your cock with her hot, heated cunt.

Tingles ran up and down all over her, too.

You gasped.

For ten minutes she massaged your balls and worshipped your member, and at the end of the ordeal her lips were sealed tight, inhaling the scents of your pubes as boiling jet after jet of thick semen surged up the length of your pulsing shaft right into the back of her mouth and she gladly devoured it with her cool tongue under your member, edging you on as a hand clawed at your thrusting buttocks.

Your climax was a tsunami. Your orgasm... words couldn't describe. Your liquid heat flooded her and your rapid humping shifted to to slower- but harder, deeper thrusts as you sought to push your squirting prick as far down her throat as you could, your testicles slapping against her chin as you moaned her name and she sucked hard for your essence.

With a final, parting sigh.

You collapsed.

(break)

And then she pumped you with some of her chemicals- you barely felt the syringe enter and leave. Less than five minutes later and you were wide awake and raring to go, stiff cock lined up to the slick entrance of her sex as she wiggled her bum seductively at you and smirked, staring back.

'Take me.'

With an almighty thrust, you plunged to the hilt in her.


	9. In Reverence

Olaf grunted and threw his massive form upon the earth, landing with a loud 'Oof!' as he began kissing the ground and muttering incoherent messages of thanks.

Behind you, the anchors were sunken in as another gangplank was deployed and the boots of the Thunderguard stepped on the Northern lands for the first time, axes and spears glinting in the harsh glare of the midday sunlight. A halberd was raised at your side as the Chief let out a hearty roar, then simply jumped off the stern of the ship creating a huge splash as mutiple stones in weight of armor and swords dragged him down in the sandy dirt.

He pounded his chest, then marched ashore to stand before the troops, Olaf finally getting up from his ritual of giving thanks to landfall to gather his own trident and bow to the Chieftain as the latter began to speak.

You flexed your clenched fist around your own dagger as a you muttered a quiet enchantment to steel your nerves and calm your racing heart.

Then with a steadying breath, you, too, stepped off the ship- right into the war.

(break)

Thunder's roar signalled incoming rain ahead as intracloud lightning momentarily lit up the moonless sky. Your torch flickered in and out at the blistering wind; the elements were no longer nature's creation as your party approached your target.

Somewhere behind you, a bloodthirsty cry was heard.

The might of Thorin's fist had been broken.

Two separate legions of the native Nightterrors had struck their expeditionary force from the forested highlands at night, and as a valiant- but failing- rear guard action led by Olaf and the majority of his berserkers held the way out of the jungles back to their landing ship, less than half of the original force pressed on.

In the distance, the Shrine of the Valkyrie stood as a single defining point, its smooth pyramidical structure a stark contrast to the jagged outlines of the far-distant mountains. One brilliant point of light from deep within its labyrinth connected the heart of it with an unknown point in the sky above. No one knew how high it shot, but all knew that the light went right to Valhalla.

'Fareeha. Bird.' Your section leader called, and you thrust your right hand up to the clouds as your Wadjet Hawk took to the skies. The direct telepathic link between you and your faithful companion waned slightly as she flew through arcanely-induced hails and sleets, but was still plenty clear enough to your trained eyes to spot distant fires at your back as well as a throng of glinting spears and curved blades as what could only be the Nightterror troops giving chase to your main party.

The enemy closes.

'What do you see?', he was impatient. You could not blame him; for secretly you, too, were a little scared.

'Men. At least six dozen, five minutes by hawk.'

They were too close.

'Make haste!!', was the shout, and through your telepathic link you urged your companion back as you picked up the pace.

Not too far away, the Valkyrie's Shrine awaited.

(break)

Delibitating fear.

Raging anger.

Intoxicating... lust.

The last of your friends and comrades panted heavily as footsteps continued to echo down the hallway behind you, everyone's faces twisting with intense concentration as the magicks of the Shrine worked at each and everyone of you and your pursuers' minds; stimulating emotions, trying to provoke reactions, seeking out weaknesses.

The closer you got to the centre, the more intense these thoughts were, and your mind was barely able to hold itself together to press on forward as visions of boatloads of beautiful, pale women taunted you to lay down with them, make love like animals rutting, sleep.. and never ever wake up again as the ones who had surrendered to the wicked hallucinations were now dragged off into the side corridors by thin wisps of shadow.

What was it that dragged them away, you didn't want to chance too close a look.

You passed a gateway and immediately the mental assault mounted as men began to drop, either shivering in fear or quaking in rage. It seemed the only target the Shrine had targeted with lust was you. You had neither the time nor presence of mind to decide whether that was a good or bad thing. Probably the latter.

Footsteps ceased as silence claimed the way back out of the Pyramid, all your pursuers having either been killed by the rear guard Berserks or fallen prey to the temptations of the dark.

There was no one left.

One empty throne.

A single light.

Entranced, you stepped forward towards the radiating Nexus as the sheer amount of power and arcane forces at work made the very air itself shimmer.

'I-'

You were cut off as a brilliant form csme to; so bright you had to shield your eyes from it. As the glare subsided the most beautiful creature you has ever seen in all twenty summers of your life descended from the crystal chalisk and took one dainty step towards you.

Enraptured by her naked glory, you could barely hear her words.

'You have made it this far, to summon your Valkyrie', there was an ethereal, very distinctly inhuman quality to her voice- you were too aroused to care,' make your request, mortal.'

'What is it that you want.'

You gulped.

'Speak.'

'I-', your swallow was clearly audible in the confines of the narrow room. 'I...I want to mate with you.'

She opened her legs.

(break)

What is plot?

There is no plot. Nein. Just your throbbing dick, two ball sacs full of cum, and a very fuckable trimmed pussy belonging to a literal Goddess.

Your left hand burnt on her naked skin, probing digits ghosting little touches from her smooth, compact belly to her ampe, peachy buttocks. Then on, over the svelte curve of her child-bearing flared hips onto the perfect hourglass curves of her waist now, dipping inwards, bent even more sexily as both of you continued the sweaty, meat-slapping, hips-mashing struggle to pack her naked womb with as much of your boiling hot cum as was possible.

Laying sideways was a massive act of restraint on her part. It was hard. So hard to not be able to lie flat on her back and let her legs be placed on your shoulders so that you could make her into a C and help her exercise flexibility she never even knew she had, and also so that with every thrust you would hilt, spearing her with your entire delightful weight- aided by gravity. That way, you would be joined so close with every thrust, and she would be able to stare into your eyes as you fucked like animals atop her golden throne.

Your bodies clashed to the timeless rhythm of rutting and your hand trailed up from her irrisistably-grabable waist to the beautiful swells of her breasts. Cupping one in your hand with the reverence you would reserve for objects of great value, your cock was still for a second at her entrance...

... then spurted again as you plunged over and over into her sex.

There was one advantage to this method of copulation though, you had the little presence of mind to think before you had discarded all your clothings and impaled her cunt with your pulsing cock; it was that enveloped in her heat, plus sandwiched by her thighs, being inside her pussy could not get any tighter.

This way, was the best.

Pressing her firm thighs tight together as she supported her front on an elbow and stared back at you with one outstretched arm pulling your heaving buttocks towards her entrance, the coming together of her legs making her sopping love grip ever more tightly around your cock as you mashed your pubes to her hips, pile-driving your member solidly into her hot heated cunt, your combined juices making a messy little puddle that leaked down her inner thighs and your legs as semen mixed with passion and squirted jet after jet after stringy jet of even more seed at her fertile garden while you continued to breed the Valkyrie.

She arched her back and you felt your member nudge at the sensitive bundle of nerves near her entrance again, grunting as your crazed pounding released a fountain of baby butter deep into your... slut.

And now I go and actually cook dinner instead of being a potato and spending my whole day writing and fingering myself to smut. Sorry for the abrupt cut but I made a mess too and it's pretty sticky I need to go clean it up so I hope you had fun times and goodbai.

Leave kudos and like reviews if you want, also, please support me on Twitter I draw pretty good for an amateur artist. Link in next chapter. Don't forget to smile mates.


	10. To Hell and Back, and then Again

Is this how you die?

Probably yes.

With an expertise that could only have been born of countless hours in experience the Bunny raised the glass to her lips, took a sip, and with setting it down to the side to leave her tongue glistening in the amber light, she arched her back against your hug and gratuitiously rubbed her more than ample breasts up- down and then up all along your face.

Two times.

All this, while holding her other hand on your chest as she lowered her constrictive pussy round your throbbing cock slowly, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as molten heat enveloped your pulsing rod in a heavenly ecstasy that had your mind blank, your lips hanging open but unable to speak. You hear a soft little sound and feel her butt against your thighs, smooshing your cum-laden ballsacks between the two of you and you almost came right there as you realized you'd fully hilted in her snatch.

She teased you with a wiggle of her hefty breasts and your instincts compelled you to lean forth, lips sealing tight around her tit as your saliva dribbled down your chin and her chest and like a child you began to nurse her- different from a child in the detail that as you sucked her, your pulsing cock was thrusting up and down her tight pussy.

Not the things babies typically do with their mothers, no. Incest is a hotly debated topic spanning mor- back to the story.

So um.

Ah, yes; tits.

It was a furnace down there. Her excitement and your precum flowed freely down the inside of her pale smooth thighs making every smashing of your hips together a lewd, erotic experience as cock and balls strove to impale themselves in a swollen labia and yearning pussy lips. Your fucking was automatic; she pushed down on your chest and rose, your tongue claiming her breasts. Your hands went round to her peachy, bubblebutt, seizing succulent handfuls of flesh to aid in lifting her up. Up and up, hungry digits burning trails of desire up and down your clashing bodies as you rutted into each other with animalistic abandon.

Here, now. Yes right now, I mean it. Here and now with you and her there was no 'making love'. None of that. This was pure SEX. This, was fucking without care. This was a pulsing cock spearing itself in and out of a clenching pussy for the pleasure of both, and this ends rightfully in rope after rope after rope of boiling hot cum spilling into a fertile womb. No refunds.

But we're getting ahead of ourselves here. Rewind!

Back to the lifting, yes.

You lifted her up.

And both knowing this mating dance as old as Man, your movements would stop at the highest point, dick quivering with the anticipation akin to that of a young maiden bent over about to take a man into her ass; she knows it will feel good! But bent over like that, she had no idea when the cock will ram her and make her a cum-guzzling bitch for a day. Not to call you a bitch, but in this position you had no idea when the pussy would drop on you either. There'd be a second when only the bulbous head of your engorged cock connects your two heaving bodies...

... and then she simply take her hands away, slipping them around your neck on the descent as her slim waist slips through your arms and her entire being slams down on your spurting cock, sliding smoothly in a single motion like heat through butter to notch right up to her womb where the sheer size of your meat plus the toned slimness of her tight, compact belly meant that having a cock this far up inside her indented her stomach and a little bump was below her belly button.

Both of you found this incredibly hot.

I also find it hot and I'm not even the one having the sex; I'm just a narrator, mind you.

But you are probably going to die now, yeah. Let's not forget about that.


	11. Long Way Forward

This chapter isn't smut. I was on the train. I simply wrote. For smut, wait till next chapter, updating in 3 days.

Hey there. You. Yes you; sweetie. You reading this right now listen up. I'm about to tell you a few important things and it is paramount that you listen to me right now. Okay.

You are beautiful. I don't care what people say about how you maybe don't look like a girl- you do- or don't sound like a girl or don't act like a girl or whatever crap. You are as woman to me as the sun is hot. And that is also a bad comparison because as far as hot is concerned, you are realllly hot and few things compare.

Let me start with your face. It's beautiful. I love it when you smile, when you look at me, when you are shy and blushing slightly in your bra. I have no doubt you'll look even better in a lusty state; your hair tousled, your eyes glazed over, your mouth hanging half-open. That's gonna be some hot stuff.

I want to talk about your body, and your... well, member. And all the other things too but most of all I want to talk about you. Because (and I know because is not a proper way to start a sentence) let's face it; bodies will change. As time goes on, for me, I'm slimming down. You want to know what my fantasies are? I want to get to the point where I am so physically appealing, so sexy; tight, firm thighs, smooth toned legs. A slim, grabble waist. A flat belly leading up to my pretty little face. Soft peachy buttocks ready for your plundering. I want to reach the point where you grow hard when you see me half-naked; and lordy, do I love to tempt.

I write smut by the daily. It's fun, practises my creative writing, and let me give you a taste of what I want to do with you. To you. As you do to me. I know I would love it.

It is not that I'm not fit now. But years of weight training and muay thai has left me... bulky in certain places. I am not soft and squishy. I am hard to hug. Like a slightly smaller, non-Russian, 5 foot eight Zarya. But jet black hair.

In a few years our bodies will change so much and so may our hearts but that is then, and I want to talk about now. Let's start with the mundane, for I grow sentimental fast once I start and don't quite shut up till your ears fall off; even if you insist you like the sound of my voice.

I left league for Zerg today. At the moment I was Plat 2 Terran, Gold 2 Toss and Diamond 3 Zerg. Actually I left all three race ladders and reset our ranked borders because I wanted to play my way up to Diamond again as a different race. I've played about 800 matches of Zerg in 28 days; that's... a lot. And even if I only played about 60 of those matches in ranked ladder climbing to Diamond, the race has grown boring for me.

I missed you when I played. You're bad. You suck. Yeah. But when I see that I don't feel like throwing you sixty links to PrimaStrategy guide or some WinterSC videos or go to . Non. I want to sit down with you and speak to you and tell you. Sweetie, supply depot on 14. 16 Gas. 17 refinery. Baby remember to scout for 2nd base. Bunker? More marines. I want to dedicate to you. To teach you and watch you grow and learn and crush the first real player under your Terran boots (or should I say high heels). Then I want you to be Terran your way up the ladder and ripping every nerd a new one until we have four gallons of tears and drink it after sex.

Sip sippy sip sip as we bask in post-coital glow and count nerds' ladder points. The life, baby. The life as we want it.

Anyways. Regarding Zerg.

I know I'll return to it. Just not now. Today I played placements for Terran , we're currently at Silver 1 with 11 wins and 3 losses. If I have time I should break gold by next Friday; Plat before Mid November when the season finishes if my Terran macro actually pulls itself together instead of fat-fingering all my barracks.

I'm so excited for the new F2P changes. This will probably signal an influx of curious players into the ranked ladders looking at this new game now that all the content has been removed from behind the paywall. I will try to get at least Plat with all 3 races before Sc2 goes Free to Play. The new noobs will be inflating gold and below and they'd be too innocent; beating them teaches me nothing and only makes them frustrated with the intense 1v1 nature of starcraft 2 so I want to escape the chance of matching with them before the gates open.

Terran is interesting; I'm playing it as I would if I was Zerg and I'm steam-rolling people; but steam rolling Golds is nothing to speak about, so anyways...

I love you.

I love the fact that when I wake up in the morning the first thing I see is you texting me to tell me about all the updates at Blizzcon, new Immortal Orisa skin! I love how you care about me and my sc2 passion. You make me feel important. You are the best, sweetheart. Immortals are stupid. Stupidly good. Make them as Toss; half the game won up to diamond/masters. Of course good macro to back it up but basically; have problems? More immortals.

It's like with Zerg, something I'm still trying to learn. I hate macro-ing. I hate sitting back and playing the strategic long game. We begin and I'm scouting and probing because I'm insecure and I wanna attack, attack, attack! And it works a lot; but if they hold it and counter push with tanks and like 2 dozen marines I'm fucked.

So no more aggression. No! Aggression bad. Ellie stop be insecure. Sit back; keep tabs on them and make more drones. Have problems? Make more drones. Send more drones. Thanks Obama.

How long are we now. 4 months? About there. Four steady months. Four months of talking to each other every single waking hour, every day. Playing games with each other; laughing, crying with each other. Leaning on each other. The Zerg and the Terran. Although if you ask what my favorite race is, I'd say American, because that's who you are and (intense winking) I want you to rain your freedom upon me.

Colonize this body. It belongs to you, Mistress. I'm on the train. It's been a long day; I played Overwatch again with Cham for like an hour after a month away from it then I took to Ladder and played four hours of Sc2 and killed some nerds with my very clumsy Terran. I'm going to bed in like... 40 minutes?

As soon as I get home I'll shower and sleep. I need to wake up at 5.30 tomorrow to practise more Terran. I have like a 10 hour work shift tomorrow bless me and I need to leave home early as well so I won't have too much time to talk to you, that's why I'm typing out this on the train so I can send it to you before I sleep.

I love you. It's raining now and I don't have an umbrella. I'll be all wet when I get home and I wish you would be there to spoon me as I drift off. You are my tol jellybean. My cuddlebear. Mein schatz.

I adore you for it.

I'm honestly tired that's why I'm ranting. I'll post this to ao3 tomorrow so the entire world knows just how much I love you, too. You are best girl. Anyone else who disagrees may lie before my approaching mail delivery truck while I roll it forward.

I need to go. I love you. Goodnight darling.


End file.
